


touch me, and my world will end

by being_happy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Hurt Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, One Shot, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, a little traumatized, closeness, have fun <3, its very light and it remains unresolved, these two are so close
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29373072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_happy/pseuds/being_happy
Summary: a touch from someone you're falling in love with, will shatter your world, then it will slowly unravel you, and break you until you're ready to fall apart.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	touch me, and my world will end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiraculouslyHopeful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculouslyHopeful/gifts).



> For you, JJ <3
> 
> enjoy yall!
> 
> Warnings: Light Reference/Implied Abuse

_touch me, and my world will end_

Being close to him was like magic. It wasn’t like she was ever searching for it or saw it from a distance and realized he had an aura around his outline. She never saw it, not even on the day when she first met him, falling from the sky and into his arms, only to get tangled up with him. He was prominent in her life now, has been since she was a small, weak little fourteen-year-old with no social skills and no problem watching things from the sidelines.

He was as present in her life like a pencil was, since she drew beautiful designs, calculated math problems, and wrote whole essays while he sat at the back of her mind. He was a stain in her mind, a splatter of colorful paints assorting of yellows, since he was like a star, and green, the tinted shade of his eyes. He was like a being of pure softness, always has been pure and innocent, portraying the beauty of childhood while also having a mature, solid personality. He was a star in the darkest of nights, that always seemed to lead her home when she couldn’t see in the dark.

Plus, he had night vision. That helped too.

She fell for just him, first. Just the way he looked at her, talked with her and smiled at her. He treated her like there was something special about her, when there really wasn’t. She remembered jumping off rooftops, laughing at his lame jokes, and just spinning in the air, and feeling the heart racing in her chest. She remembered loud moments with him, howling with laughter at inside jokes, and the angry drivers that scratch one another’s cars below. She remembered feeling his eyes lingering on her longer when she looked away, before he would turn back to the sunset or city below.

But then she remembered the soft moments. The delicate blushes on cheeks, and the hesitant breaths between them as they stood almost chest to chest. She remembered holding her breath when she first felt his gently finger trace her cheek, then cup it softly, being mindful of his claws.

She remembered running. Running hard and fast when he had leaned down. She remembered feeling everything shattering inside her, feeling herself break because she has never wanted something more. She remembered feeling a want in her chest, her entire body shivering and begging for him to close the distance. And she remembered feeling the fear and anxiety spike in her chest, her soul cracking in half as the floodgates of reality soaked inside her.

And then there was the crying.

The sobbing.

The weeping.

She blamed herself. Because as they both stayed silent on the matter, and while their inside jokes got less and less, and the loud howls of laughter were also… less, she finally was able to sit back and just… watch.

He was gorgeous in the sunlight, his smile dazzling and all there for the laughs. But during the late-night hours, he softened his voice, and sometimes just enjoyed sitting next to her in comfortable silence. She liked the way he looked at her side, with his hair unkempt and his eyes glazing over the screaming fangirls, not interested. She liked the way how she would sometimes turn away from a finished interview, look at the ground for a second, before looking up just as he does a hundred yards away. She liked the way his eyes immediately met hers, not challenging, not fearful, but just _seeing_ her. They would stand there for a few seconds, just staring and realizing that they were a little more under each other’s skin than they thought. She would feel a small tingle at the back of her neck, and then a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and a buzzing in her chest that broke her heart every time.

But you need not worry. This was a good heartbreak.

It was the feeling of her pride finally falling, and the walls she built up all these years to keep herself safe, to keep herself upwards just one more day, were crumbling. It was the feeling of her heart cracking open, but not for something to leave, but for someone to stay and live there, and just make her heart pound.

She found herself reaching for him. In moments of stress and panic, staring up at the evil villain taller than the buildings with snarling lips and a growl in its throat. In those moments, her hand would instinctively reach out to him, and grab any part of him that was closest to her. Usually it was his arm, or sometimes his wrist, rarely his hand. But sometimes, when they weren’t in the middle of a battle with no eyes watching them, she liked to touch him longer, and other places rather than his arm.

She didn’t know she liked touch so much, but touching him felt like everything around her crumbled, and it was just her and him.

When he touched her…

That’s a different story.

His hands liked to be touching her as well. Before she was looking for his affections, she may have not noticed how much he touched her, but now, as she looked for his soul, she noticed it.

His hand would sometimes touch the back of her arm and delicately pull her around so he could see her. His other hand would usually work its way up her other arm while she closed her eyes and yearned for his touch. He would trace his touch over her shoulder, and ghost his fingertips over her neck, lingering there for a moment before reaching her cheek, which he cupped and stroked with his thumb.

This was a normal practice for them. When she felt like everything around her was fading and she could do nothing about it, he ghosted his touch over her, drawing circles on her sweet spots. He would lean close and watch her close her eyes, pressing his forehead to hers while he traced a line up and down her spine. Then he would feel the race of her heartbeat pounding against the skin on her neck, and he would ask her if she was okay.

“I’m okay,” she would say, not opening her eyes. “Just stay close to me.”

And he would, his touch never leaving her.

She doesn’t remember what she was panicking about this time, but she remembered how it ended up. They had fought an akuma, something happened in between. She thinks Chat died again, and she watched as he was pounded into the concrete, and she couldn’t undo it in that moment. She hated watching that, it always caused these reactions.

She would cast her miraculous ladybug, and she would watch the ladybugs fly around the city and begin repairing the damage that was done. But then her knees would give out, and she’d crumble to the ground in a haze, watching the traumatizing scene of losing her soulmate over and over.

She has never felt a connection with anyone else except for him. Somehow her emotions were surrounding the thought of him, and her insanity depended on whether he lived or died. She didn’t give him the title of her soulmate because she kissed him and because he understood her. Both of those are true, but they weren’t the reason why.

No, it was because when they touched, she felt her soul reaching out to him, and everything around her would turn into a nonexistent reality and it would be just them. Just her and him, while they held onto each other as intimacy flooded their veins, and whispers and delicate, hesitant touches were exchanged. He was her soulmate, and her soulmate was the one that would sacrifice his soul for hers.

Maybe that’s why his touch was so scorching hot when he finally came back, sitting in front of her and seeing her weeping. He had touched her shoulder, and she just completely fell apart.

“You’re not real,” she said.

This was a familiar routine, and she was always wrong. But every time she watched the worst happen, she’d believe it.

“I’m real,” was what he said, his tone soothing and angelic. “You can look at me now, it’s over.”

She doesn’t remember much of the next few minutes, but she remembers looking up, seeing his face. Then, she had reached out and touched his lips, his eyelids, and traced her fingers delicately over the fabric of the mask on his face. She felt his jaw too, and she remembered feeling an overwhelming need in her chest as she traced her fingers down his neck and onto his chest. She remembered feeling the solid heartbeat that ricocheted across her entire body, and she remembered looking up into his eyes.

And beginning to cry.

Chat Noir reached out to a sobbing Ladybug and gathered her shaking form into his arms, her trembling saddening to feel. He picked her up carefully before launching off into the air. They were running for a long time, Ladybug clinging to his chest like the desperate mess that she was.

They came to a stop on top of this building, but when Chat had set her down, she didn’t let go easily.

“I’m here now,” he whispered in her ear. “You can let go of me.”

She sobbed and shook in his arms, “I will never let go of you.”

“You should sit down,” he suggested lowly, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You’re trembling, My Lady.”

“C-Cause I lost y-you!” she spluttered, burying her face further into his chest and sobbing louder. “I-I watched you die! You just—”

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, interrupting her with a soft kiss to her temple. “I’m here now.”

She sobbed again, “Chat, I’m gonna fall o-over.”

He nodded against her, “I’ll follow you.”

She did fall, her knees buckling under her just seconds later. But Chat followed her, even when she laid down on the rooftop, covering her face and sobbing horribly.

“Shh… shh…” Chat cooed, a clawed finger stroking hair from her face. “Just relax, you’re okay.”

She peeked from behind her fingers and noticed his face above hers, and she removed her hands to look up curiously at him.

“Y-You’re on top of m-me?” she asked, her voice still tight.

He nodded, “Just to be close.”

His legs were tangled with hers while most of his lower half weight rested on top of her, his chest close but he held himself above her with his forearms. His hand kept coming up and stroking the side of her face, wiping her tears away and then lightly playing with her loose hair.

She noticed the throb in her chest turned from a scared, painful pressure as she watched the scene that played only minutes before morph into a gentle pulse that called out to him. She could feel her soul on the edge of her body, trying desperately to reach out to him. It was like everything was falling apart inside her, but in a good way, because now he was so close to her with a gentle presence and his gentle touch. She felt like crumbling, only so she can crumble against him, she wanted to fall, only so he could catch her. She wanted to feel his intimate touch, and she wanted to feel her entire body explode for a need for him. Not a need for him to be inside, but just a need to be close, and intimate in the most innocent way.

And everything around, suddenly faded, and all the emotions inside her, just made sense.

Ladybug reached up to him, her fingertips first finding his jawline. At her touch, Chat closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, which travelled up his cheeks and again traced out his outline. Her featherlight touch was shaking against his eyelids, only because she didn’t want to hurt him in anyway. She stroked his hair out of the way, studying his little twitches and the way his jawline tensed for unknown reasons.

She was horrified when Chat opened his eyes, and tears immediately fell out of his eyes and joined hers on her cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispered, wiping them away and closing his eyes again.

“Why are you crying?” she asked softly.

He looked at her then, his eyes still brimming with unshed tears and vulnerabilities he wasn’t willing to shed just yet. He looked like he was trying to force himself to say something, and the painful expression on his face made it hard to look at him.

“I…” he averted his eyes down and closed them, as if reliving a painful memory. “I… haven’t been touched so gently in a long time.”

She kept her hands on his face, delicately holding his cheeks as she stared up at him in horror.

“Is someone hurting you?” she asked quietly.

He looked up at her, “No…” he said, shaking his head. “I-I mean, it’s not like… no, he doesn’t hit me often.”

Her eyes widened, “ _Often?”_

He looked at her with desperation in his eyes, “Please, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Chat, you just told me something serious,” she said, staring up at him and cupping his face more. “I can’t just ignore it when you say something like that.” She watched him for a few seconds as the information settled inside her, turning into a red-hot coal inside her chest. “Who would do that to you? You’re so kind, and amazing and sweet, and…” she shook her head, feeling her own emotions hurting her as she processed the news. “I don’t get it; I hate that someone is hurting you.”

“Please…” he begged, his voice warbled. “Please, I just—”

He was cut off by her lips. They were gentle, delicate, and very still as she cradled his face and pressed the gentlest kiss onto his lips. A warmth sprouted inside them, and suddenly, as they held the other closer and gently opened up to one another, they had a strange feeling that it was going to be okay.

“We can just hold each other,” she said softly against his lips. “We don’t have to talk right now; we don’t even have to talk tonight. But in the morning, we need to figure this out.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and felt his insides melt at her kindness. The moment was so tender he couldn’t bring himself to jump for joy even despite the fact that Ladybug just kissed him. He could feel the warmth and fondness growing inside him, a gentle piece of joy he allowed himself. But there was also the terror, the anxiety and the desperate need to keep her close, because he couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not.

His hand found her waist and slowly dragged a line up her side, “Can I have you tonight?”

She looked up at him, their foreheads still touching. “How do you want me?”

He shook his head then, “Just close.”

There was a pause between them, only filled by their mingled breath as the world slowly fell down around them. 

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! Yes, this is still a little angsty and such, but I thought I'd give you a double update this week. Chapter 35 of Afterglow will be up tomorrow as well!! 
> 
> If you like my writing, check out my other works! and thanks for reading! :)
> 
> For you JJ, love you buddy <3  
> ~happt


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